Hornwell High
by I Be Awesome
Summary: There is something spooky at Jack's new school... and it may cost him his life to find out what.
1. Welcome to Hornwell

**Chapter One**

**Welcome to Hornwell**

I had no idea what I was in for when I moved school. My mum and dad were so excited, as was my annoying little brother. He got to go to a normal school. I should introduce myself. I am Jack Hall, and am fourteen. Therefore I am in year seven. Don't think it's because I'm stupid… alright, I _am _a bit dumb. My eyes are plain brown, my hair is boring, my life was boring… I've gone off track, haven't I? I'm here to tell you about my experiences at Hornwell High.

The school bell at Hornwell was old-fashioned, the kind you would find in an old church tower. It boomed forebodingly as it signalled the beginning of the school day. I walked into the old school, behind the neat lines of students, feeling very out-of-place. An odd teacher greeted me in the hallway and pulled me into a cramped office.

"Mr Hall," he said cheerfully, with big white chompers gleaming from his pulled-back lips. I couldn't help thinking _all the better to eat you with_, "Welcome to Hornwell. I'm sure you'll fit right in, we're very accommodating here at Hornwell." It was like he was trying to remind me where I was.

I nodded nervously.

"Here's your timetable." He handed me a sheet, "All classes are in school grounds. You cannot leave the grounds at any given time. We're very strict on lawbreakers here at Hornwell.

"Thank you," I mumbled, not at all grateful, "Mr..." I glanced down at his badge, "Mr...um..."

"Call me Mr S." He smiled freakishly again, and I left the room, almost running.

The other students were neatly and quietly lined beside their homeroom doors, patiently waiting for their homeroom teachers to come and let them in the classroom. It was like a walk in a dream... there was absolutely _no noise_.

None at all.


	2. Maths and Blood

**Chapter Two**

**Maths and Blood**

The lessons were strange. Usual year eights were rowdy. Yelling, screaming, talking and throwing things. But as I entered my classroom (5 minutes late, I might add) thirty silent pairs of eyes turned noiselessly to me.

"You are five minutes late," a curt, sharp voice said sternly, _thankyou, captain obvious, _"Lunchtime detention."

I turned to the teacher. She was young, sharp and cold.

"On my first day?" I exclaimed, and instantly knew I had made a mistake.

"Do _not _argue with the staff, Mr Hall, now sit." I swear her eyes turned red when she said that. I'm not a big liar, and I stick to my word. Her eyes flashed red, and it's the truth.

I did not argue, but, stunned by her sudden change of eye colour, walked to an empty seat and blacked out.

Today I still cannot remember any of the lessons at Hornwell, but I have odd flashes when I dream about Nuclear Wars and how to assemble a CBU-58A/B bomb. To tell the truth, the only lesson I can remember was boringly interesting.

Maths.

I yawned as my mathematics teacher, Mr Pfer, droned on about something.

"If a vat of blood is filled to halfway, and the vat is 478 litres large, what is half?"

I sat up straighter. My ears were playing tricks on me, for sure!

A student by the name of Farl (how dammed cruel were parents these days?) shot his hand into the air like a bullet from a rifle.

Mr Pfer pointed at Farl. "Yes, Mr Carlson?"

"Half of four hundred and seventy eight is exactly two hundred and thirty nine, sir." Farl Carlson sounded like a robot.

"Half of that?"

"One hundred and nineteen point five." Farl answered automatically, as soon as the question had passed Mr Pfer's lips.

I knew somehow that if he had asked any other student, they would have answered in the same voice.

Like robots.


	3. Don't Wake the Cat

**Chapter Three**

**Don't Wake the Cat**

Hornwell High was a round-the-clock boarding school.

_Hornwell High is a round-the-clock _boring _school_, I thought as I rushed to my dorm.

There were three other year eight students in my dorm. Two girls and a boy. The boy's name was Jason Lee, the girl's Annemarie Clarabelle, and the other girl Frieda Telson.

I entered the four-bed, one bathroom dorm and the door slammed shut behind me, plunging the room into blackness.

"Shh, or the cat will wake," a creepy voice whispered in my left ear.

"Don't want to wake the cat," I replied automatically.

"Not good when puss wakes," another voice whispered.

"This cat's got claws," I answered.

"Sleep and kitty will too," a third voice whispered.

I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.


	4. Stuck in a Locker You Can't Get out Of

**Chapter Four**

**Stuck in a locker you can't get out of**

When I woke, my head ringing with the bell, I realised I was late.

Again.

I rushed out of my dorm and knew I was instantly lost.

_Bloody hell!_ I thought as I looked about wildly.

"Why'd I have to come here? Whey the hell did I _have _to? I could've gone to a _normal _school!" I was, sadly, on the verge of insanity.

The bell was still booming as I rushed through the corridors, looking for the classroom I was supposed to be in. Then I heard the footsteps.

_Shit, a teacher!_ I thought.

I don't know what made me do it, but I knew I had to hide. Therefore, I hid in the nearest hiding place.

An empty locker.

Yes, I know it's probably the stupidest thing I've ever done, except for the time I tried to drop in on my Bam/Element skateboard- off the roof. Smart, hey?

As the dreaded footsteps faded, I tried to move. It was then I realised the stupidness of it all.

I was stuck!

Ironically, the song in my 'top ten least favourite songs' list popped into my head, Stuck in a moment, by U2. My version was somewhat different.

_You've got to get yourself together, you've got stuck in a locker, now you can't get out of it_.

God, I _was _mad!

"Help!" I cried. My voice was husky and tired.

I _think _I passed out. When I woke I was in my dorm, black as ever.

"What happened?" I groaned at the roof.

"You must have had a bad dream." A random robotic voice replied.

My bruises said differently.


	5. Out of Bounds

**Chapter Five**

**Out of Bounds**

For the rest of the week I kept my head down, attended all my classes, and didn't get into trouble. I didn't make any friends, but I don't think I wanted to. They put the creep in creepy. They were robotic. Clones.

Thank the lord we were allowed out of school on weekends.

I ran.

The shops were full and bustling as I slipped into the crowds. What I didn't know was I was out of bounds.

**This is all leading up to something dangerously disgusting. This tale is my warning to never attend Hornwell High, also known as HELL HIGH.**

I blanched when I spotted a teacher, Mr Deform, his eagle eyes searching… searching…

For me.

I made to run, but wasn't fas enough. I grunted as Mr Deform grabbed my shoulder and _literally _pulled me back to the school. My mind was screaming stupidly.

_Don't kill me! I'm too young to die! No!_

Mr Deform took me to the principal's office. Principal Shaft was short and stubby, with hungry eyes and sharp teeth. Mr Deform explained his version of the event.

I didn't listen. My mind was chanting weirdly. _Shaft, Shaft, she'll make us barf. Hungry and thirsty evermore, she'll eat you and you'll never know._

I was _convinced _she was going to gobble me up.

She didn't, thank god.

"Special detention tomorrow, Mr Hall." She said.

Ugh. Shivers.


	6. Fixers

**Chapter Six**

**Fixers**

I remember it fairly clearly, there was me and four other kids. Principal Shaft led us to a section of the school I hadn't been in before.

Five metal-framed glass boxes were placed outside four doors with writing on them. The doors were sealed.

_DEATH! DON'T KILL ME! _My mind was screaming wildly, positively hysterical.

"What're they?" I asked nervously.

"Fixers." Principal Shaft replied.

"What do they do?" my voice trembled.

"Fix naughty children."

"You kill them?"

"No, no," Principal Shaft laughed, "We rip off their faces."

"WHAT THE HELL?" I had totally freaked out. I _had _to have heard wrong. _Please God!_

"Where do you think the chips go?"

"WHAT FUCKING CHIPS?"

"The ones that make everyone smart and nice and perfect."

Shaft pushed the other three children into separate boxes but I ran down the hall.

"Come back!" she boomed.

"NO! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME!"

Shaft pulled a sinister knife from her pocket and threw it, hitting my shoulder.

She caught up with me and began to choke me, her evil sharp teeth drawing ever closer to my face.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO EAT ME, BITCH!" I screamed, lashing out at her legs.


	7. Chasies

**Chapter Seven**

**Chasies**

I ran. The principal chased me. Throwing open a door I ran through it, slamming it behind me. When I turned to face the room, I realised something with a sinking stomach.

I was still in the 'fixers' room.

The other four kids, in the glass cases, turned to me, and I nearly hurled my lunch. Blood ran down their necks. Their eyes, hideously round, popped from their faceless heads. Their noses had gone, just two holes remained. And, worst of all, pulsating grotesquely from their uncovered faces, throbbed a fleshy, bloody, pink _brain_. Poking from the brain's frontal area was something black, a chip. They looked at me with blank eyes, uncovered veins and arteries spurting blood down their shirts. They reached for me and for a moment, I was frozen for that moment, their eyes were hypnotic. The first student's finger touched the glass and the whole thing shattered, sending shards of glass into his eyes. He did not even hesitate. The sound of breaking glass brought me to my senses and I ran. Through another door. And ended up in the detention room. The children were still there. The principal was there too. Grinning like a maniac. Holding a remote.

The others were stock still, like statues.

_Robots_, I thought, and knew it was true.

These helpless children, these poor vulnerable unaided kids, sent to the school by unsuspecting parents, and sent back home with chips in their brains, had never done anything to anyone. Sure, they may have broken some rules, but so has everyone. I bet you smoked pot behind your parent's backs. Or killed a guy. Sorry, radical thoughts. Back to the story, which you came to read. Not to see me or hear my opinions on Nukes or wars or suicide, 'cause _no _one _ever _listens to me.

You remember how I was taught how to assemble a CBU-58A/B bomb? Did you know, they're about the size of a baseball. Easy to hide. Another thing I learnt was how to assemble a Glock handgun in five seconds from old pieces of junk and anything that's lying around, say, a pipe cleaner? Nothing is impossible. I was soon holding a Glock in my hand and pointing it at Principal Shaft.

"Lemeeou." I stammered.

"Pardon?" Shaft asked calmly, but she was scared. Beads of sweat lined her brow.

"Let me out." I repeated, strangely calm.

"Or…?"

"I'll shoot. Swear to God, I'll shoot."

I am NOT anti-religionist

"That wouldn't be very nice."

I let off a warning shot, hitting P.Shaft in the shoulder.

"Alright." She muttered.

I ran out the door and into the boiler room.

"Two-faced, double-crossing, lying, sly bitch!" I hissed angrily.

Demolishing the handgun, I modelled a small, baseball-sized bomb. I typed in 00:12:05 on the timer and placed it under the boiler.

Thinking back to that day, it seems weird I didn't give myself more time. Like, say, 12:00:05? That may have stopped some events.

I turned to leave the boiler room when a door swung open. It led to the entry hall of Hornwell High and I knew it was my escape portal.

But there was one problem.


	8. When I met Her

**Chapter Eight**

**When I met 'Her'**

In the doorway, and in the way of my escape, stood a beautiful girl with flowing brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked, in some strange way, a little like me. Except she was a she. Got it?

"¿kcuf eth tahW" she exclaimed, ".pu dekcuf si loohcs sihT .moor reliob ginkcuf eth ot del rood siht yaw on s'ereht ,naem I. ereh uoy nees ev'I dnA."

"You're speaking backwards, but what the hell? There's a bomb. Shut the fucking door." She looked at me, confused, "rood… um… eth… and, um… tuhS." I said. She understood, and left at once. I could've ended the whole ordeal then and there, but I NEVER WANT TO LIVE BACKWARDS. Now you know.

Well, I met 'her' she's my parallel. I named her kcaJ (pronounced ka-ca-jay) but it's nothing fancy. It's just Jack backwards. Come to think of it, that's probably her name.


	9. BOOM!

**Chapter Nine**

**BOOM!**

I knew the bomb would detonate soon. So I threw open a door and pelted helter-skelter through the halls. Many student robots tried to stop me, but I was too fast. I did a James Bond (He is so cool… James Bond) roll near the elevators and left the robots behind. (Hornwell is privileged.) Now, even though I nearly died, I got bored in the elevators (as always) and I would like to share that boredom.

_Dum da de de de_, my mind hummed along in tune with the elevator music. When the lift made it to ground floor, I jumped out and ran towards the doors. Mr Creepy S tried to stop me, but I flew past him. Out the doors I triumphantly ran, all the way home.

Even from far away, I heard the explosion, a million cries of pain, the screaming shrapnel, everything and everyone in the school, gone. I stopped, stunned, dazed.

I had not expected my CBU-58A/B bomb to be that affective.

Police sirens wailed and I ran to the school, seemingly inconspicuous (not noticeable). Or so I thought. I was arrested on the spot.

I have spent the last thirty years or so of my life in solitary confinement, cutting myself to pass the time, and to write this on the walls of my cell, which are splattered with food and blood.

This is the real events of what happened.

You may have read the papers.

There were false accusations.

I DID blow up Hornwell.

But I did it…

To save you.


End file.
